


his solace

by drowsy



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andrew's thought about Neil throughout the series, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 19:31:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7374544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drowsy/pseuds/drowsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andrew’s first thought of Neil Josten was ‘fake’. He was a boy who was clearly lying, clearly pretending to be something he wasn’t; or at least, something he didn’t want to be.</p><p>Andrew’s next thought of Neil Josten was ‘dangerous’. He was too attractive for Andrew to ignore, whilst single-handedly being the biggest flight risk he’d ever met. </p><p>Neil looked for exits everywhere he went, and Andrew hated him for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	his solace

**Author's Note:**

> Andrew thoughts about Neil throughout the series. All from his POV, kinda weird and meta-ish. 
> 
> Trigger Warnings: Mentions of childhood sexual abuse and vague description of a canon rape scene. Canon descriptions of violence and torture. What you would imagine Andrew’s thoughts throughout the series to be like, basically. If you can't handle canon content, I suggest you skip this.

Andrew’s first thought of Neil Josten was ‘fake’. 

He was a boy who was clearly lying, clearly pretending to be something he wasn’t; or at least, something he didn’t want to be. The boy’s jet black hair looked like fake plastic against his pale, slightly freckled skin. The rims of his iris’ were blue, giving away his fake brown eyes. His clothing was depressing, but the money he had within his creepy fanboy binder said that it didn’t have to be that way. 

Andrew’s next thought of Neil Josten was ‘dangerous’. 

Dangerous, because he was a threat to Kevin. Not explicitly, of course - the boy barely ever opened his mouth unless it was necessary - but Andrew could see it on his face. Neil had something against Kevin, something that made him want to run the second Kevin showed any interest in him. 

He’d seen Neil’s face the day they met; Neil had desperately stared at Kevin like he was the difference between life and death. Neil didn’t stare at anyone else that way, and it was glaringly obvious from the way they interacted that he had a problem with Kevin. It made him a dangerous threat that Andrew had to keep a close eye on.

There was also another, less obvious reason for Andrew to see Neil as dangerous; he was too pretty for Andrew to ignore. The boy was beautiful, almost tragically so, and Andrew wasn’t going to deny that he was definitely attracted to him. From the moment Andrew laid eyes on him, he knew it would be a problem. 

But more than that, Neil was intriguing. 

When Andrew was younger, he would spend hours sorting puzzle pieces into corners, sides and middles and then further place them into groups of colours. He would spend hours putting puzzles together, only to pull them apart and start the process again. Neil was a puzzle in his own right; a mixture of broken pieces of a fake identity, and real pieces hidden within the layers of his lies. Andrew wanted to pull him apart, analyse every piece, solve the mystery that made him so intriguing, and put him back together in a functional state. 

His feelings warred with the deal that he’d made with Kevin, which ultimately won out in the end. Neil was only a puzzle; Kevin had promised him a reason to live. 

But it didn’t change the fact that his thoughts, his _feelings,_ for Neil disgusted him.

Usually, Andrew would cling to anything that made him feel. Cigarettes, alcohol, pain, heights. But people were a danger that made Andrew feel too much, too quickly, and could be lost within a second. Neil was dangerous because he made Andrew feel, whilst single-handedly being the biggest flight risk he’d ever seen. The boy looked for exits everywhere he went, and Andrew hated him for it. 

That, and Neil didn’t swing. So none of Andrew’s feelings mattered anyway.

\---

Andrew soon came to the conclusion that Neil wasn’t dangerous to Kevin.

Or at least, he wasn’t _physically_ dangerous to Kevin. 

Perhaps, one day, if Kevin found out that Neil was mixed up in the intricate web of Moriyama politics, Neil would throw Kevin into a mental spiral. But for now, Neil was harmless to him. If anything, he would help distract Kevin from the Ravens moving districts and the looming threat of the Moriyamas. Neil became Kevin’s pet project, and Andrew couldn’t care less about it. 

No. Neil was only dangerous to himself. And Andrew.

\---

Andrew knew that Neil wasn’t telling him the whole truth, but he let it slide anyway. The boy didn’t give anything to anyone; not even Matt, who was gentle and kind and took the time to properly befriend him.

But standing in Wymack’s apartment, muttering in low German, Neil gave him pieces of himself over to Andrew, small portions of the truth that nobody else knew. 

As Andrew felt under his shirt, he could picture it in his mind. Red raw and rosy pink raised lines with patches of both burns and cuts alike laid amongst very few patches of unmarred skin. These weren’t just the marks of someone who had a rough childhood on the run; they were the marks of torture. 

Perhaps, he and Neil were more alike than he first thought.

\---

But there was one thing Andrew could never understand about Neil; Exy.

The boy was so desperate to run and survive and _live_ , but at the same time, he wanted so desperately to play a dumb sport. It was the one thing that overrode all his ingrained survival instincts, and it would most certainly lead to his downfall.

Despite his situation, Neil stayed with Foxes, because he loved the game more than he loved his life. 

Andrew had vowed to protect him for the year, but the promise felt somewhat empty; nothing could save Neil now. He was in more trouble than Kevin, and that was saying something. 

By the end of the year, Neil would either be six feet under or on the run, and Andrew hated the idea of both outcomes.

\---

Neil was a parasite, a damn bug, and Andrew hated him with every fibre of his being.

Andrew could blame it on his attractiveness, but he’d been attracted to prettier people before. None of them had burrowed their way under his skin like Neil had. 

He put it down to Neil being too sincere. Despite not realising it himself, Neil cared about his teammates, and he cared about bringing them together in unity. He cared about things that only somebody with a certain level of light - of goodness - within them could. Neil was a _nice_ person. 

But every now and then, Neil showed a hint of darkness. A hint of viciousness; a hint of cruelness. Andrew suspected he’d learnt it from whoever gave him his scars, but it also came with his undying survival instincts that bubbled to the surface every now and then. It gave him an edge within the light, a hope that maybe Andrew could reach his level after all. 

Neil knew darkness well; he had seen it, lived it, and survived it. That split duality of someone who Andrew could relate to, while also being somebody that Andrew wished he could be, was what gave Neil power over him. 

It gave Neil the power to push his boundaries, to ask him questions, to ask him favours. It gave Neil the power to burrow under his skin and fester off him, eating away at all of his defences. 

It gave Neil the power to destroy him.

\---

And he almost did.

Pain. 

Shards of glass splintering into his skin.

Hands wrapping around his wrists.

Pushing him down.

Clothes, gone.

Punch, kick, bite. 

Pain.

But Andrew could hardly blame Neil for asking him here; there was no point in theorising whether or not the same situation would have occurred if Neil wasn’t a factor. Andrew didn’t care, _couldn’t_ care, enough about his own pain to blame anyone but the direct perpetrators. 

Drake. 

And now Proust.

Playing the same games he would play when he was younger, he dissociated from it as best as he could, pretending to be somebody else, in another place and time. It worked until Proust figured it out.

All Andrew could think about, all that he clung to, was the image of bright blue eyes and fake black hair. 

That was it.

\---

Andrew’s first thought when he saw Neil in the lobby of Easthaven was ‘stupid’.

However Neil had managed to fuck up so badly that he now sported a completely different hair colour, his natural eyes, and several bandages and bruises littered across his face was _downright stupid_. 

Andrew wanted to kill him - storm up and wrap his hand around his throat, throttling him for making him feel _so damn much_ \- but instead he paused for calm.

He continued on, pretending not to care. The car ride was silent, no matter how much Nicky protested it. When Andrew took a quick glance at Neil, he didn’t seem to be upset; he accepted it for what it was. 

Neil never took anything from Andrew; he only asked, and waited.

Andrew eventually got angry. Nicky, as always, ended up as collateral. 

Later, after their talk on the roof, Andrew internally cursed Neil close to a hundred times. This stupid boy and his stupid martyr complex had put himself through weeks of torture in Evermore _just_ for him.

He hated Neil. Hated him, hated him, _hated him._

Andrew blamed himself, even if he didn’t want to.

\---

When Neil eventually peeled off the bandage under his eye to reveal the small number 4 tattoo, Andrew wanted to pack his bags and head off to Evermore on a one-man mission to gut Riko from head to toe.

But Aaron and Kevin anchored him to Palmetto instead.

\---

The thing Andrew hated the most about Neil were his lips. His stupid, rosy pink lips that were almost always littered lines of bright red where Neil had chewed on them too hard. They were stupid. So, so _stupid._

Kissing was one of the few sexual acts that were pure and untainted. It was hard to turn kissing violent, and none of his abusers had ever tried.

Riding on a sudden, quick spark of impulsiveness, Andrew took the plunge. He had Neil’s face in his hands and his lips on his own. The feeling was everything he’d imagined and more; floating, weightless, with everything centred around Neil. He lost himself for a split second in time, allowing himself to forget everything, including Neil’s own words. 

_I don’t swing._

Andrew broke it off, feeling disgusted with himself. The bliss was over, shattered, and he pushed Neil away. 

He was becoming the one thing he feared.

It made him feel sick.

It wouldn’t happen again.

\---

And yet it did.

Andrew kept himself rather passive, but his heart jolted the second Neil took the ice cream from his hands, placing it on the ground. 

He didn’t know if was real, genuine attraction that Neil felt, or if it was just a naive curiosity for sexual experimentation. Andrew didn’t quite have the patience to question Neil’s motives because Neil was giving him his consent regardless, and it was all he needed to push Neil to the ground and explore his lips, his mouth, his _tongue._

When he cupped Neil’s face and brought their lips together, Andrew could feel everything, more than he could ever imagine. It was dangerous, but it was freeing.

It drove him crazy in a good way; a high better than the drugs ever gave him.

\---

Neil’s moans were his favourite aspect of their secret trysts.

It was no secret that the boy was a virgin. He’d never felt real pleasure at the hands of another person before, and it was clear he had no idea of how to keep those noises in. 

Andrew found himself jacking off far more frequently than usual, the sweet cries that fell from Neil’s mouth a litany of music replaying over and over and over in his head. If he tried hard enough, he could imagine Neil’s body underneath him, trembling along with him. He could feel Neil giving himself over, allowing Andrew to take him and protect him and trust him.

The thought of trusting Neil, and Neil trusting him in return, was what set Andrew off every time.

\---

Gone.

Neil was gone.

Andrew didn’t have space to think anymore.

He can only lunge at Kevin and choke the truth out of him. 

Neil was still gone.

\---

No sleep.

He could only run his hand over the cool stainless steel of Renee’s knives and wonder if similar weapons were sinking into Neil and taking his life from him. 

No sleep, no sleep, _no sleep._

\---

Andrew had never cared this much about anyone. Not Aaron, Kevin or Nicky combined. He hated Neil so fucking much, but his whole body was aching to find him, to see him, to touch him. He’d even take a phone call, at this point.

Perhaps Neil would finally, _finally_ destroy him.

\---

Hope, and then anger.

The agents on the phone kept calling him Nathaniel, and it made Andrew feel sick. He only wanted Neil.

Nathaniel meant nothing to him.

Andrew lunged for Kevin a second time, because Kevin could have divulged this information earlier and saved Neil. Andrew would have refused to break Neil’s deal, refused to leave his side, and refused to let Nathan take him away. But Renee and Matt managed to hold him back this time, so Kevin walked away shaken.

Nicky told him to focus on the present, on the task of helping Neil _now._ For the first time ever, Andrew took his cousin’s advice.

\---

Andrew managed to pull Neil from the wreckage that was Nathaniel.

He vowed, to himself, to keep Neil from ever having to live through that again. Neil is Neil now, and he’ll make sure it stays that way for as long as he’ll let Andrew be around.

\---

Neil became Andrew’s solace. Without the influence of a substance, pain or fear, Andrew finally had a reason to live - a _real_ reason - outside of his estranged brother and Kevin’s barely kept promise.

Exy would never be his solace, at least, not in the way Kevin wanted it to be. But Exy was a part of Neil, and Neil was a part of Andrew now. So Exy became an easy distraction for Andrew to endure. It wasn’t like he hated the sport, after all. 

It wasn’t a total solution; Neil was still human. He could still break and bend and die, and Andrew couldn’t rely on that forever. 

But it was a risk he was willing to take.


End file.
